Araatris didn’t run forward anymore. There was no hurry to the fight. Simply skill. There was no point in circling him. He would see her no matter what. She needed to find a way to make herself invisible to him. Natural terrain didn’t help against felsight. It would seek out the demon within her.

But perhaps… she could mask it. Use the terrain to her advantage. Araatris held back the grin she felt. It wouldn’t do to show that she had an idea. She turned her back on him and ran up the hill near the Site of Lessons. He followed and as he crested the hill behind her, Araatris spun on him. She dropped to her knee and swung her leg out in his path.

Despite a slight hesitation, Tharion avoided it. His blade swung down and she parried it with her knife. Her arm trembled with the force of the hit. She rolled to the opposing side to give herself a chance to get on her feet.

They watched each other. Against her better judgment, she thrust her sword at him as a test of his guard. Unlikely, but she hoped that it would create and an opening. Much to her dismay he side stepped to her left and grabbed her dagger hand with his free left hand. It took very little to twist the arm behind her. He placed his sword against her neck.

“Yield.”

“No.” Araatris growled.

The sword pressed more firmly against her neck, creating a thin line of red. “Yield.”

She’d been listening to her demon too much and not paying enough attention to her own openings. It was hard to balance the listening with doing. She tensed and Tharion shifted so that his arm wrapped around her shoulders and pinned her right arm to her side. He simply lifted her off the ground as he stood to his full height. “Hey!”

“Yield.”

“Owww! Watch the arm!” Araatris wiggled as her arm was pressed up slightly causing her to drop the dagger as she flailed.

“What purpose does this serve?”

“Fine!”

Silence.

“I yield, I yield!”

Tharion set her back on the ground and released her. She felt embarrassed and foolish. She wondered if any other demon hunters had ever felt quite so… silly. Her Other was even laughing. Lot of help he’d been.

Araatris sheathed her weapons and rubbed at her sore left arm. “I feel like I’m doing worse than I did to begin with.” She frowned and stared away from Tharion down at the Site of Lessons.

“You are improving.” He stepped up next to her.

A hard jerk on her arm caused it to pop. She glanced at him even though she didn’t need to and snorted with disbelief. “If you say so, I still feel like a five year old fighting an adult.”

The mask twitched, a definite grin. “I am… older.”

Araatris turned to Tharion and looked up at him as if trying to divine his age, “What, a few hundred years?”

“Several thousand.”

She gaped.

“We were immortal once. No longer now.”

Tharion did not turn towards her and the grin was long gone.

Araatris turned back towards the Site and the grin was a bit sadder. “I truly am a child. Always will be to something like that. And Kharendos?”

“Indeed.”

“And I am human.”

He turned towards her finally. “Yes, you are.” Her smile faded, and she thought about how she wouldn’t live to make as much of a difference as they ever would. “But you are also a Demon Hunter.” She glanced over at him in surprise. “It is… interesting what changes that will cause.”

Araatris smiled brightly. “I’ll just have to make the best of it, won’t I?”

“Indeed.” His hand gently patted her head.

She was changing. Soon she was sure that she would no longer recognize herself. Yet, the demon cajoled her in a strange way. His barking tone, “What did you expect, brat? We’re attached. Of course you’re going to change. It’s the way you humans adapt.”

It was true. If she truly looked at it, there were points in her life that great changes had occurred. Losing her parents. Meeting Tharion. And now… a demon. Yet, she knew that if she truly thought she was becoming dangerous what she would have to do. She would not be hunted. She would go quietly and with honor.

Araatris walked about the Site of Lessons. It was quiet in the morning light. Her fingers brushed against the books on the shelves, the familiar furniture. It had truly become a home to her. Finally, she stopped circling at the privacy screen and rummaged through her backpack. It took her a few moments, but she finally pulled it out.

She had not told Tharion about this keepsake, but hadn’t thought it truly mattered. However, she knew now that she was not the same person she had been upon entering this place. A child’s purple shirt was grasped in her fingers. She couldn’t see the color now, but she’d remembered buying this shirt with her mother. They’d been so exasperated with her fondness for the purple garment. She remembered sitting with her mother as she sewn on the patch on the upper left front of the shirt. It was the symbol of their family.

An orange and black tiger wound about a shield emblazoned with red and yellow sections, its head peeking out from the left and the tail from the right. Her fingers gently traced over the design. “A goodbye too long waiting. I’m sorry, mama… papa.” The Other was quiet. At times, he seemed to almost rest himself or perhaps he was lost in his own thoughts.

It mattered not. She eased a dagger from her side. It was time. Now, while the demon was quiet. Araatris gripped the dagger firmly. Today, she would bury the Valryss. She firmly thrust the dagger in with a grunt.

“Brat! What are you-” The voice cut off as suddenly as it’d begun.

She wanted no distractions. Araatris drug the knife with care, making a careful cut. Gritting her teeth, she wanted to look away, but she knew she couldn’t. She needed to finish the task she’d started. It would be more painful to do otherwise. Imaginary tears stung at her eyes, and she, now more than ever, wanted a comforting hug. But no was around to ease this pain.

It was almost done. She focused entirely on the task at hand. A few moments later, she pulled the knife away and viewed her handiwork. It would do. Araatris tossed the purple shirt onto the fire. In her hand, she held the removed family emblem. She slid the dagger into its sheath and stood.

Araatris had bought a shovel just for this task and she gathered it on the way out. She travelled to a sunny tree quite a ways from the Site. Far from the demons. Looking up, she smiled. “This looked like a spot that you would like to rest. It made me think of you and I came here often when Tharion wasn’t around.” She began digging. “I know you wouldn’t approve of what I’ve done and the risks I’ve taken, but… he’s really tried to prepare me for them.”

She continued digging; wanting to make sure it was deep enough that a stray animal wouldn’t accidently dig it up. “And I know that I haven’t exactly chosen a Valryss path, but I’m going to make you proud of me.” Wiping at some sweat on her forehead, she paused and looked at the tree. “But… I’ll never be the Valryss you wanted. I can’t. Maybe I never could, but rather than sully your name… I’m going to take on a new one some day. For now, I’ll just be Araatris.”

The patch was gently set into the bottom of the several feet deep hole. It was simple work covering it back up and packing the dirt down. Araatris’ fingers caressed the trunk of the tree. “Goodbye Mama. Goodbye Papa. I’ll always be your daughter, not matter the name I carry.” She glanced down at the two flowers she’d quickly transplanted there. Two beautiful purple flowers. She’d been here often enough, to know those flowers were indeed purple, even if she couldn’t see it now.

With a lightened heart, Araatris made her way slowly back to the Site of Lessons. Inside, she could feel the demon mumble a certain amount of approval. Perhaps, he’d had other thoughts about how this day would end. Perhaps, and just perhaps, those thoughts had passed through her mind, but they were fleeting and did not stay.

“You are human.

You are young.

Is not everything annoying?”

The words had struck more home than she had time to realize when he said that. Tharion was right. But it wasn’t fair, just because he was a night elf and older shouldn’t mean that it was easier for him. Her hands clenched until the knuckles were white. It hurt… reality hurt. Her shoulders shook, but she knew tears would be denied to her. Araatris had made her choice and the pressure of the blindfold and burning in her eyes was a constant reminder.

“I hate you…,” Apparently, she wasn’t denied a stuffy nose as she sniffled.

“No…” The demonic presence in her mind shifted slipped into her thoughts.

Araatris’ head snapped up. In her horrid embarrassment and melancholy, she’d forgotten about him. She berated herself, but didn’t directly respond to the demon.

“You don’t hate him.” The voice sounded disinterested.

“Yes, I do. It’s his fault!” There was a scurry of creatures as she shouted out to the forest.

“I know you. You don’t hate him.” If a voice could shrug, then that’s what the presence did.

Araatris frowned. It was messing with her again. “What? Because he’s -pretty-?” She tried to glare inside her mind.

“Perhaps, but mostly because you know he never made you do this. If it’s anyone’s fault… it’s yours.” The voice was horridly blunt.

“It’s… It’s… not my fault.” Her shoulders began to shake again.

“Do you want to die?” The voice was sharp, and very intense.

Araatris found a similarity in Tharion’s question when she said that it was easier to not speak with the demon manipulating her thoughts. He’d asked, “Will you be mute?” She wasn’t ready to give up, but it hurt. She sniffled again. “N-no.”

Malorin was silent for several moments. “You aren’t sure.” It was not a question.

The thought made Araatris’ heart skip. Was she really unsure about living? The thought terrified her. She trembled. “I’m… I’m sure.”

“Then why do you hide?” Malorin’s voice had relaxed into a mild disinterest again.

“I’m not…” Araatris paused. “I don’t know…” She glowered. “Why are you being nice?”

“I’m not. I’m simply protecting myself.” He growled, “Without you I no longer exist.”

Ah. So there had been an ulterior motive. “So, you’re lying?”

Malorin huffed, “What good would that do, brat? Then, for all I know you’d just get depressed and commit suicide.”

“So, you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” Araatris grinned slightly through the sniffles.

Malorin grumbled, “I know you as well as you know yourself, which isn’t very good. In your current state, you’re worthless. If you don’t know yourself, then you will never be able to master me. Not that I think you’re capable anyway.”

Araatris stared out of the tree hollow. “Maybe you’re right… maybe you’re wrong. If you have access to me, then I should have access to you. Argh! But he said that there was no you and me… this hurts my head.” She shifted and pressed her fingers into her forehead.

He shrugged, “Not my problem. Anyway, how long are you going to sit here and cry, brat? You’re starting to annoy me.”

She twitched, “Good. Now you know how I feel.”

“And stop talking out loud. You echo enough in this empty place without it.” Malorin grinned amused.

“Shut up!” Araatris fumed.

A deep laughter echoed throughout her mind, “That’s it, brat. Fight!”

Araatris paused and slipped out into the rain from the crevice. “You know what, Malorin… I think I will.” Taking off across the damp grass, Araatris’ feet lead her to the satyr village. Malorin’s malicious laughter echoed through her mind in response.

Yet, killing it hadn’t brought her joy. Just a simple release. Araatris held it up into the moonlight and felt an odd feeling she couldn’t explain run through her. It was as if for just a moment, she had been seeing through someone else’s eyes. She yanked the gemstone back down. She honestly had better things to be doing than staring at it.

She could be working about the Site or training, but instead she’d felt the need to be alone. A desperate need to meditate about her path and this gem. A deep shaky breath was taken as Araatris shifted her location.

It was a small moonbeam that reached the forest floor, but would serve her purposes. She sat herself cross-legged and placed the precious stone in her palm. It hummed and vibrated in her hand. It had begun doing this soon after she took possession of it. It was unclear whether it was normal and she’d not had a chance to ask. Araatris wasn’t sure if what she was doing was even a good idea. The crystal certainly didn’t feel pleasant.

Araatris fought the tremble in her arms as she raised it into the moonbeam. A shock ran through her body and froze it as the crystal began screaming. She felt her own mouth echoing the words that she couldn’t understand. Terrified, she was unable to react as she seemed to synchronize with the gemstone.

“You are the one that killed me.” It snarled and seemed to snap within its prison.

“You are mine now.” Araatris tried to sound confident, but her voice cracked in this guttural language.

“A child. Is this what finally did killed me?”

She could hear the sneer in its voice. “I claim you. You will answer to me.”

“Why?”

She sensed it wanted to find out more about her and that seemed dangerous. “You are trapped. You have no choice but to submit.”

It smiled; a gruesome thing that forced itself into her mind. “There is always a choice. You know that. I can sense it. We are alike, you and I.”

“No.” She shook violently.

“I will use you.”

The world shimmered and shook and Araatris found herself lying bereft of dignity. She sprawled on the ground ungainly and a clawed hand grasped her chin. It yanked her head up so that she looked into the eyes of her adversary. The satyr was just as he had been in life and still she found the traces of his previous life fascinating. It spoke plainly with its accompanying grin. “You are helpless, child.”

Her heart pounded, but she forced herself to stare into his eyes. They were mesmerizing, but she focused on the last time she’d seen such eyes up close. She’d thrown herself at that demon and had been blindly trying to kill it. She knew much more now. Her lips curled menacingly.

Without concern for herself, she grasped the demon’s wrist firmly. He seemed amused until Araatris used that as leverage to swing a leg up into his chin. He reeled slightly from the impact, but wasn’t disoriented. A thin scratch marred her cheek. The satyr grinned at the trickle of blood and licked his lips. “So, you want to play?”

Araatris crouched ready for combat, even knowing that there was a chance she might lose without her weapons. She was ready tear him apart with her bare hands if that was what it took. Without warning, the vile creature blurred and disappeared from her sight. It was without warning that that a hoof came crashing into her backside.

She flattened, but rolled aside before he could recover for another blow. Leaping to her feet, Araatris took the offensive, but her blows bounced off his skin until her knuckles and shins were raw. He was really playing with her.

It was easy enough to back off. He was too amused by her attempts and enjoying drawing the fight out. She watched him. This was a dreamscape. Tharion had told her as much about these. And this was as much her dreamscape as his, but… if she gave in. It would be no game, she wouldn’t get out. She hadn’t intended to take it this far, but now that it was the case she had no choice.

The straight forward attacks didn’t work. She needed to find a weak spot. Araatris leapt forward and feinted, a mild look of surprise crossed the satyr’s face as she slipped behind him and punched where his spine was. The hit didn’t connect as he twisted away. His snarl trembled through her body and she stayed firm.

It’d been so simple the entire time. He’d just been protecting his back. It was a pity that she hadn’t connected as now he was on to her plan. He knew she would keep trying for it. Her body tensed and waited for him to attack.

After a moment, the great hoofed creature simply straightened and smiled. “Do you really think it’s going to be that easy?

Araatris smiled. “Not at all, Red. I expect you to fight tooth and claw.”

He walked forward and Araatris held her ground. “It’s a pity you have no claws to fight with.” He shimmed and she felt the presence behind her this time. He leapt upon her like lightning, his blows cuffing her and she saw once again the claws headed towards her face.

“No!” Outside of the dream world, Araatris regained control of her limbs and firmly grasped the gem in her right hand.

Within the dream world, Araatris thrust up her hands and a blade appeared to block the clawed strike. “I have my own claws, monster.” She growled and snarled up at him. Araatris threw him off of her with a boost of strength. “I will not submit to you. Not now… not ever!”

The demon wiped at a small stream of blood from the corner of his mouth. He laughed, “Now this is more like it. Perhaps you are more woman than child!” He stood and gathered himself proudly. “Fight me, woman!”

“Gladly!” Araatris threw herself forward and found herself matching the demon’s pace and footwork. They weaved around the empty landscape like ballroom dancers. Their blows were rhythmic in time as they tested their openings, parried and thrust, dodged and moved. The openings were too far and too little and she could feel herself wearing down. The game had to end.

The creature had slipped up again. Perhaps he tired as well. It was a perfect opening as Araatris slipped under his arm and knocked his hooves out from under him. He was slower to recover than he had been previously and she crouched over his torso. Her blade tip pressed at the base of his neck until it drew blood. He heaved tiredly, but relented as she pressed harder.

The hum quieted as did the voice. She snarled at the crystal, “No… I will use you and your powers to quiet your kind. I will hunt them in the silence and they will not see their death coming. You are mine. Tell to me your true name, demon, so that I might bind you.”

It was soft and carried on the wind, “Malorin Shadowclaw.”

In a voice that Araatris didn’t recognize as her own, and in a musical language she did not speak, her voice rang out. The words they both understood. “I bind thee, Maloris Shadowclaw, by the blood that I have spilt. Thou will obey my call and commands at all times. Do you understand?”

“I understand… Mistress.”

Araatris’ heart pounded in her rib cage as her vision cleared as she stared at the crystal. Her voice was raw from the foreign languages of the demon. It no longer seemed wrong in her hands, but more like an old companion she could call upon. There was no doubt about the path she would follow now. She lowered the gemstone and placed it in a pouch, feeling none of earlier compulsion to hold onto it. She knew that when it was time and she was ready, then it would be as well.

Rolling onto her back, Araatris laid the book on her back and stared up at the night sky. She would have kept the blindfold on if she could for this task, but it was too difficult to focus the blurry not quite demon hunter sight the blindfold gave her. She’d gotten a headache before finally resigning herself to removing it. Her actual sight reminded her of another thing she would give up. Even in the darkness and shadows there were so many colors that she would no longer see after her choice. But… color. It was a small thing in the big picture, wasn’t it?

Perhaps it was, but it still caused her heart to ache. She’d sounded so confident the night before, but she knew that it would hurt. Not the physical anguish, but anguish of the soul. In a way, she felt so alone at times and lost. That feeling wouldn’t go away with her choice, but she would need to learn to deal with it. This path, even though there would be others like her, was still a lonely path. One fraught with peril and pain.

Yet… if it helped even one other person was it worth it. The other night elf, the stalker, had said that it was possible to fight the demons without the path. However, in Araatris’ heart, she felt that the girl had chosen her own path and was fighting to believe in it. Having seen the Dalaran incident from afar, Araatris was more inclined to believe that demon hunters were more needed than ever. Dalaran had barely been able to save itself, let alone others. In the end, her parents hadn’t survived, but died fighting. She would fight in their stead now.

Araatris draped an arm over her eyes for a moment to ease the ache that had come with removing the blindfold. She hadn’t used her eye in weeks and she could feel the strain. It made her want to close her eyes and just rest. Rubbing at her good eye, she finally rolled back over and began reading once more.

She had made her choice and nothing, not even going to hell itself, would deter her. Araatris could only hope that her parents would forgive her in the end for choosing a path that they would have never picked for her themselves. But, such was the way of things. If the path was easy, then there wouldn’t be stigma and everyone would be using it to fight back the Legion, but it wasn’t. If she wanted to survive it, then she couldn’t do it half-way. It would require putting her entire being into it and… if that was what it took then so be it.

Araatris glared up defiantly into the space around her, “We all choose the paths we must lead. Not all of them are black and white. It may not be your way of doing things, stalker, but know I do it with a heavy heart understanding the dangers involved. I do it for you. I do it for the refugees your group protect. I do it for all the people I’ve met in passing. The shop vendors. The children. If it was so easy to destroy these demons as you’re saying… then it would have been done long ago. So, I choose to fight. I choose to throw their own power back at them and let them feel the same burn as those they’ve killed. And… when my task is done, I will go to my parents without looking back. For I have done as they would and created a world worth living in.”

“I am Araatris Valryss. Daughter of Archmage Kirie Valryss and Warmage Xyus Valryss. Survivor of Dalaran. And I choose the eternal hunt.” There was no sign of an answer, but Araatris felt that perhaps, just perhaps she might have been heard. Satisfied, Araatris bent back down to her reading. The corner of her mouth twitched up slightly as she realized that this was the second time she had made such a declaration.

Lannia:
This man was corrupted much like anyone else who has involved himself with the Burning Legion. He is a pawn that has gone out of control, but since he’s a distraction away from the Burning Legion, they allow it. There is very little that is left of the hero of long ago, if any. It is truly sad how vulnerable people are in the end, even me. *smiles sadly* Perhaps we can help him find peace so that he can finally rest. Free from his madness.

Serephim:
*snorts* You’re asking me about the Ice Prince of Azeroth. If you want my opinion, you must be a bit crazy yourself. I don’t really care about him. He’s just another crazy in this world. -What? Oh, of course he needs to be stopped. Oh! I see. You think that I might take some part in it. *shrugs* I dunno. Got enough problems to work out for myself, let alone trying to stop an insane prince. Geez, you act as if he can hear me. Ice Prince. There’s no way that I’m going to call him back the egotistal name. He’s lord over a freaking iceland full or dead people and bones. Doesn’t sound very kingly to me. Personally, I think he should just see how pitiful that is and just himself for us.

Araatris:
The Lich King. Sure, I’ve heard of him. He’s done terrible things. Sometimes I wonder if he thought they were truly best at the time, but what made him think that. Especially the whole thing with Stratholme. I’ve heard people tell me about how it burned with all those people inside. It’s terrible! *shudders* I only wish I could do more, but for now I’ll have to bide my time.

Jhaara:
The Lich King is a fool. Does he truly think he can unite us all under one banner? Even with his thoughts, groups were able to break free. My brother and I will see his downfall. No one is lord over us. My brother would just rage ahead, but he always was hot-headed. We shall wait until the moment when the Lich King is weakest and strike. Together he and I will stand over the body of our creator and watch his screaming deparature. You think that I am harsh perhaps? So, are the winters up here. They can drain the heat from your body until you lie dead in the snow. Only this time… I will bring even a colder winter to the Lich King than any has ever known and I will suck the life from his corpse. *the interviewer runs in terror*

Araatris is one of the lowest of my RP alts, but I enjoy her very much. She’s probably the most active out of all of them and I’m taking my time with her story. I really want to explore this character. I figure that she’ll slowly change outfits until I reach what I believe will be my final outfit. And yes, I already have an idea of what it is. *grin*

Araatris is level 27 at the time of this post.

Chest: Neophyte’s Shirt
Hands: Ritual Gloves of Fiery Wrath
Waist: Bandit Cinch of the Monkey
Legs: Journeyman’s Pants
Feet: Grizzly Slippers
Weapons: Goblin Screwdriver (2)

Araatris sat on an outcropping high above where the Satyr milled about below her. It was risky, but the provided a focus for her meditations. It was a constant reminder about what she was doing.

My name is Araatris Valryss, but I no longer my parent’s daughter. I have not followed their path, but I have followed their hearts. They gave themselves that others might live. I’ve already checked with Dalaran… their deaths were confirmed. They didn’t make it. I must become my own person. From this day, I must think of myself as Valryss no longer. I must distance myself from the personal rage. Or else… I might lose myself.

The demonic voices echoed below and Araatris frowned. A breeze brought a nauseous smell with it. Hooves clacked upon the rocky outcropping and Araatris grumbled softly. Picking up the blades on her lap, she faced her lone foe. It grinned menacingly at her. “Do you think that you can stop us?”

Araatris flashed a grin. “Me? I can only put a dent in your plans, but there are more. There are always more that are willing to fight you. I am insignificant in comparison with that. But…” Her look turned fierce. “I am sure that I’m more than enough to stop you and keep you from causing any more harm. For now, that is enough.”

“You talk big little girl. You’ll find it’s a dangerous to let your tongue flap so much.” Its smile was gone. Eyes were narrowed and it’s grip had tightened on it’s weapon. Muscles bulged and it moved into a half crouch.

Araatris activated her blindfold with a murmur and circled the satyr. It cautiously turned with her and watched her. A crack sounded behind it causing it to turn slightly. Her distraction had worked well-enough. She leapt into the opening dealing a couple of deep slashes and a shallow stab. It twisted away and snarled at her. “Same trick won’t work twice.”

Her lips pulled up on the right, “It won’t need to.” Araatris tossed down some power momentarily cutting herself off from sight. It made things a bit fuzzier for her, but she was used enough to that with her regular sight. Anything that cut off their sight also cut off hers. She slipped around it.

It roared in fustration and seemed to be blindly striking out in the smoke. She could see him though with this half-sight. This felsight. He glowed even in the smoke. A beacon of light for her blades to seek.

A well-placed hit stunned the demon and Araatris made quick work on it’s backside. She’d found that demons were similar enough to have the same weaknesses in battle. A mortal wound was still a mortal wound. The body slumped forward with vile fluids pouring from the wounds.

“Who are you?” Blood seeped from its mouth and it coughed.

Araatris smiled darkly. “Araatris, a demon hunter in training. I shall bring your death, and you will not hear me coming. I will keep you and your kind in check. We will survive and we do not need you.” She watched as the light in its eyes flickered and slowly died.

I am Araatris of the Netherbane, a demon hunter in training. I fight to rid the world of the Burning Legion in order to protect others. I will not fail. Even though those that I protect may never know my name and I will be no more than a ghost. I will fight for them.

“Indeed.” Tharion stood casually as if she was of no consequence. Of course, remembering their previous battles, even with improvement, she still lacked the ability to land a hit. The current session had been going on for a couple of hours this night. The moon was already high in the sky.

Spitting out some blood onto the grass, Araatris tensed and leapt forward. She kept her eyes open and tried to guess how he would react to her current movement. He stepped to the side at the last moment and grabbed her wrist and threw her tumbling to the ground.

With effort she rolled with it and back onto her feet and aimed for his back. Tharion’s back or front didn’t matter. That damnable eyesight of his allowed for eyes in the back of his head. She thrust the dagger towards his lower back only to have him drop into a crouch under it. He sweep kicked behind himself by balancing forward and knocked her feet out from under her. It was a hard landing on her back that caused her breath to escape her for a moment, but there wasn’t a moment to rest as  he was already up with his foot aimed towards her chest.

A quick roll to the side avoided the foot as she gained her feet once again. Araatris circled around and began darting in and out with quick attacks. It was a kick that ended the match. Tharion caught her foot and intended to knock her feet from under her, but she managed to twist and place her hands on the ground. Her other leg came up in another kick aiming for his head. He let go and moved back, but not quickly enough. Her foot clipped face and left what would likely be a bruise later. She tumbled to the ground and scrambled back to her feet.

Tharion stared at her for a moment before nodding. “You are learning. Let us break for now.” Araatris relaxed and finally realized just how sore and tired she really was. His suggestion was more for her than for him. She grinned at her accomplishment and adjusted her blindfold.

“Sure. Sounds like a good idea.”

A final stretch and groan led her to drawn her daggers and walk over to a nearby broken column that she’d been using as her training ground. A whisper awakened the emerald glow in the blindfold and she threw herself into training. Stepping rhythmically about the column in a deadly dance, she barely paused for stumbles or corrections.  The left dagger twirled about for a stab while the other prepared for slash. On and on the dance went as she twirled about the ruin.

A rustle alerted her and she leapt and spun to land crouched on the column. Araatris’ head tilted as she waited. “Do you believe that you are ready, Araatris Valryss?” Ah.. now she recognized the form in front of her for sure. Sometimes images were still cloudy and the distance unsure with the magical sight.

A wry grin crossed her lips as she replied, “I’ll never know unless I try, Tharion.”

The mask that covered the lower half of his face shifted slightly. In amusement or something else, she couldn’t tell. “Indeed.” Tharion bowed and motioned for her to attack. Her teacher wasn’t a man, or night elf for that matter, of many words. She stood upon the column and bowed with her arms spreading out to the sides, unlike his more closed and formal bow.

Araatris held that for a good moment before launching herself at him with everything she had. Tharion side stepped and she stumbled face first into the first. She rose with a face that showed a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance. Several more times she tried and only once did she manage to scratch him. It seemed that when dealing with a moving target that the issue with her ability to tell distance with the felvision was amplified.

In the end, she sat glaring up at Tharion who seemed to be grinning beneath that mask of his. Although he could have been frowning, it was difficult as hell to tell with that stupid piece of cloth covering his face. As if it wasn’t bad enough that he already had a blindfold. Araatris sighed. “What am I doing wrong?”

“What do you believe you are doing incorrectly?” Tharion always had this way of making you answer your own question first and this time was no exception.

She thought for several moments. “I was moving fast, but I couldn’t track you or tell how far away you are. Doing things that I’m familiar with I can go faster, but they also don’t move. Or at least not often.” Araatris finished upon remembering that she’d stubbed her foot last week on a piece of wood that’d fallen off the stockpile.

“Indeed. You will improve with practice and time.” Araatris couldn’t help but smile at him. Sometimes the simplest logic really was the best. Others might find the open-endedness of his words annoying, but she took comfort in them. He was willing to let her take the steps on her own and not lead her like a dog on a leash. She was willing to put in the time to make it.

“How about some tea, Tharion?” A final bow towards each other and together they walked back to the Site of Lessons.